


Sugar and silk

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [50]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Onshot, Romance, karedevil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: Karen and Matt enjoying a Sunday





	

There have been women before Karen.

It would be extremely poetic to say that, from the moment they met, when she was scared, traumatized, alone, handcuffed to a table, questioning his legal competence, shivering from head to toe, there had been no one else. That when she stripped in his living room, in the dark, in front of him because he was blind, unaware that he could, in many, many ways, see her, he was done for, in all other senses blind to every other woman in the world.

That was not, however, the truth.

He had, of course, known how beautiful she was from the minute he stepped into the interrogation room. When she removed her wet shirt, sliding his borrowed one on right after, it didn’t go unnoticed. When she followed him into the rain while he beat the man sent to kill her, that one part of his brain registered the way the fabric and her hair stuck to her skin. The skirts she wore, tight and figure hugging, when her hair was up, when it was down, when she licked coffee foam from her upper lip, he noticed everything.

Only he didn’t notice that he noticed. He was stupid, a moron like that.

So there have, yes, been women after Karen. Back when he thought she was just his secretary, whom he had no business being attracted to.

And then a kiss in the rain. Dinner, smiles, plans, little touches and whispered nothings, everythings. She was so much more than he thought. An infinite more. She couldn’t fit inside the box he had set aside for her. Not even the bigger box, the “girlfriend” box, or the box with a question mark. She was bigger than his crush, bigger than his worry, bigger than his doubts, his patronizing.

Karen was bigger than him.

Even now, when he had his hand on hers and they walked through the empty streets of a chilly Sunday morning in New York City, coffees in hand and no hurry, and she thought she was fully aware of how much he loved her (she wasn’t. He wasn’t, either), she was bigger than him. No matter how much he tried, he could not wrap his mind around her, there was always more, everyday, every minute, every time he thought about it, he discovered he loved her a little more than he thought. Discovered she was a little more.

“How about a real breakfast?” he asked, tugging on her hand, slowing down further. She looked at him, tilting her head.

“You’re not tired?”

They hadn’t slept yet. He was coming from one of the million spider webs he had been untangling with Jessica, Luke and Danny, she had pulled an all nighter at the paper, trying to finish a story for her deadline, so it could make Monday’s edition. Before going home, he had called her and stopped by the Bulletin to pick her up. The sun rose while they exited the building, hand in hand, both exhausted, coats tight around themselves. They stopped for coffee, hoping the warm caffeinated beverage would help them the rest of the way home, at least.

“Yes”, he replied, tugging on her hand, bringing her closer to him, standing there nose to nose in the cold, loving every second of it. “But it’s quiet out, and I think coffee is not gonna sustain us for much longer.”

“Hmm”, she replied, her cold nose on his cheek. “Might be a good idea.”

“Ok”, he touched his lips to hers, tasting her latte and the remains of her lipstck as he spoke. “This way.”

He followed his nose to a bakery, where buns and pastries and more coffee were fresh. They were the first clients in, the young server smiled at them.

They had the whole place for themselves, but they still sat on a small table at the window, so Karen could watch as the sun lit the streets up and the day slowly began, and Matt could count her eyelashes, measure the temperature of her skin with his hands, test how soft she was under his lips, open his mouth and accept the bites of sugary pastry she fed him.

“You finished the article?” he asked, because he wanted to hear her voice.

“Yes”, she sighed, tired, she was so tired. “Finally. It’s out tomorrow.”

“Hmm”, was all he felt like he could say, extremely tired himself, lips on her temple, arm around her chair while they sat as close to each other as they could, his hand grazing her arm.

“How was it, with, uh…” she hesitated, always careful when mentioning his vigilante business outside and he smiled. “With the guys?”

“Good. We made progress, but also…”

“Uncovered more mess?”

He sighed.

“Always more mess.”

She lifted her hand to touch his face, angling it to hers.

“If you need my help…”

He smiled, leaning to kiss her, realizing that they should be home, spending the last of their energy on each other, not trying to stay awake at an empty bakery - even if did smell nice.

“I know. Thank you.

She returned his slow kisses and rested her head on his shoulder, looking outside again, watching the eventual car drive by, the early birds coming out to pick up their papers or whatever, the residual party goers make their way back in.

God, he loves her.

Last winter, when he had walked the streets with his mask in a paper bag, his heart on his sleeve and the air stuck to his throat, to tell her, to finally tell her the truth about him, the very real possibility of him losing her forever was so heavy on his shoulders, he felt like he would crush under it’s weight.

Now, even with the sea of trouble he had to swim through, moments like these made it worth it. It was all worth it when he had it so clear in his mind that he did it for her. He did it for everyone, but, mainly, he did it for her.

“Let’s go?” she asked, swallowing the last of her cinnamon sugary thing, feeding him the last bite of his, lifting her head off his shoulder.

He nodded, they got up, paid and thanked the young server, put their coats back on and made their way back outside, the chilly, dry air of early winter piercing their skin.

Matt and Karen walked back to her apartment hand in hand and, by the time they arrived to her doorstep, he could feel the sun on his skin, the noises of the streets intensifying, people, cars, dogs, TV’s, and he was so ready to turn in.

When he joined her in bed, finally, he smiled and she smiled back.

“Surprise”, she whispered, pulling him to lie by her side, but he rolled to settle on top of her.

“You didn’t need to do that”, he said, his heart warm.

“I wanted to”, she said, caressing his face, smoothing his hair back, pulling the brand new silk sheets to cover them with her feet, the expensive egyptian cotton duvet after. “I know you sleep better with them.”

He did. Fuck Stick, he did sleep better on silk sheets, he slept perfect when he had Karen there by his side on those silk sheets.

“I love you”, he told her, for the hundredth time.

“I love you, too”, she replied, opening up to his kiss, running her hands on him, those hands that were better than the purest silk in the world, nothing topped that.

“I don’t want you spending this kind of money on me, though”, he said after a few seconds, at the same time he enjoyed the feeling of the sheets and the covers and the pillowcases.

“Shh”, Karen urged, laying on her stomach, tapping his chest, a leg intertwined with his. “I’m allowed to do nice things for my boyfriend. Now go to sleep.”

He did.

.:.

Two hours later, he woke up with his phone ringing on the night stand. Luke Cage.

“Yeah?” he answered, still half asleep, whispering not to wake Karen.

 _“Hey man. Sorry to wake you_ ”, Luke said on the other side of the line. “ _We got that lead. Might be Gao, might be something else entirely_.”

Matt blinked, trying to wake his brain up, noticing Karen’s rhythmic breathing, her toes twitching, which meant the noise was bothering her, she was about to wake up.

“Who’s the source?”

Luke hesitated.

“ _Punisher_?” he answered, but it sounded like a question. Matt sighed.

“Listen. If he’s your source, I trust him to follow up on it. Would you mind if I sat this one out?”

He could almost hear Luke thinking.

“ _What’s up?_ ”

“I’m-” he started, sighing, deciding on the quickest explanation. “I’m at Karen’s, man. She bought new sheets”, his voice went lower, just in case. “She’s not- she’s not wearing her pajama bottoms.”

“ _Hmm. Say no more_ ”, Luke replied. “ _Go. I’ll keep you posted. We gonna need you tonight, though.”_

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“ _You do_.”

Hanging up, Matt put his phone back on the table and pulled the covers over himself again, turning to Karen, running his hand on her back, under her shirt, down to her waist, going over her underwear, settling on the smooth expanse of her naked bottom. She stirred a bit, let out a breath, turned around and cuddled against his chest.

Matt fell back asleep in less than a minute (but first, he picked his phone back up to remind Luke:

“Don’t let Frank kill anyone”.)

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I could say I am VERY excited for the Defenders


End file.
